Tears
by Tomorrow Sounds Good
Summary: Harry has faced down Voldemort for the last time. But, this time, Harry won't be coming back. Draco shows his feelings of regret for loosing Harry and not being able to be there when he needed him the most. Short, but sweet, this story is HD.


A/N: This story takes place at the end of Harry and Draco's last year at Hogwarts. Harry faced down Voldemort for the last time, and both of them are killed in the process. Draco now shows his feelings of regret for loosing Harry and not being able to be there when he needed him the most.

" – " talking

**bold** thoughts

_italics_ emphasis

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**Tears**

"You _bastard_."

Though he spoke softly, the fury in his words would not have gone unnoticed to those around him. But, oddly enough, he was alone. None of his typical lackeys, nor those pesky girls that seemed to attach themselves to him at one point of the day or another, they were almost leech-like in their attentions. He'd managed to avoid all of them so far, though he was uncertain as to how long his moment of solitude would last.

As Draco Malfoy stood, strong and as proud as ever, the lake before him gave off the reflection of the setting sun. To anyone passing by he would look perfectly normal, besides the few from other houses that might question his motives. Especially being as he was a Slytherin. What was he doing just standing there? Surely he's not human enough to appreciate such beauty.

**I see beauty too.**

"That was a stupid move you made. You selfish fucking bastard! What about the ones who cared? You didn't have to do it alone. I could have helped...!"

_His _beauty. His strong muscular body, every nook and cranny of it once explored by Draco. Those gorgeous green eyes that had held a flame, and a certain innocence that had opened his thoughts up like a book waiting to be read. Draco had rushed to flip the pages of the mystery that was hidden within. Jet-black hair that Draco had once liked to run his fingers through in those nights that they had shared intimately. His perfectly sculpted face, right down to those soft, wet lips. The way they would always slightly part as he drew closer to Draco. Closer, and closer…oh, the taste of him in Draco's mouth! And now…he'd never taste those lips again. Draco licked his lips and observed for the first time that they were chapped.

**Draco, Draco…you're not taking very good care of yourself lately. Slacking off? **His mind reprimanded him. It was true, he _had_ been neglecting himself. He hadn't taken a shower in nearly three days, his lips were chapped, his appearance devilish. Surely his hair had seen better days._ He_ had seen better days.

... Or had he? Heaven forbid what his fan club must think of him now. Maybe that's why he'd been allowed a moment of peace.** Maybe there is an upside to losing you, Potter. Not only do I loose you, but everyone else around me who has ever pretended to care. ** The fact that he had made the joke, no matter how cynical and twisted it might have sounded in his head, surprised him.

**Sureyou're strong Draco. Strong enough that you don't make up crappy jokes to make yourself feel better. Strong enough that your hand doesn't shake when you eat your food or hold your quill. Strong enough that you still wear that same smirk at the end of the day. Strong _enough _****so that you know that no matter how much you may think about him and what he has become...you still can't let yourself cry.**

What would it be like to just break down and cry? Draco had never had the luxury of such expressing such painful emotion. Of course he'd felt them, oh, had he ever felt them. But such things were supposed to be bottled up inside, not even permitted to be released in the quiet and supposed sanctuary of his own room. But would it be worth it? To cry for someone he had only truly known for a few months, perhaps not even that, when he could not remember the last time he had cried for himself, let alone another being?

Draco took a step closer the lake, and knelt down to get a better look at the reflection he saw in it. Strangely enough, it was not the handsome Draco Malfoy that stared back at him, but Harry Potter. Those same green eyes shone even in this reflection of the lake, alight with fire, and the small, slightly crooked grin was on his face.

He bowed his head then, as the flood of emotions took him. His shoulders did not shake, nor did he let out loud, painful sobs of regret for things he could—no, _should _have done. He simply cried. Hot tears rolled down his face, as he struggled to keep his other emotions at bay. He wanted to lash out at something, angry at the public display of emotion. But at the same time, he knew it was all right. He was simply answering the question that had plagued him.

Yes, he was worth it. _Harry _was worth it.

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